


Dark

by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)



Series: Sterek A-Z Challenge [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Injury, M/M, Prisoners, cliffhanger ending, derek is worried about stiles, stiles is still a mouthy shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-10-17 13:14:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10594752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasterella/pseuds/isthatbloodonhisshirt
Summary: “Who are you?”“They didn’t hit youthathard.”He only knew one person who could sound that annoyed at Stiles for even just breathing.“Fancy meeting you here, Derek. Why are we cuddling?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Teen Wolf (c) Jeff Davis

His head hurt. His head hurt like it had never hurt before. Not even that one time he and Scott had gotten overzealous with the free bottle of Tequila they’d managed to snag when they were both fourteen and had downed in one sitting.

Stiles wasn’t sure how they hadn’t both died of alcohol poisoning, if he was honest. But that aside, he couldn’t help but feel like the pain in his head was worse than it had been that one time, and that was saying something because he’d felt like he was dying back then.

Letting out a groan, he felt someone shift beside him, an arm wrapped around him that he hadn’t even noticed until it tightened almost painfully.

“Stiles? Are you awake?”

“Wish I wasn’t,” he muttered, forcing open his eyes and blinking them a few times. He couldn’t see anything, everything dark, completely devoid of any light. “Where are we?” He paused. “Who are you?”

“They didn’t hit you _that_  hard.”

He only knew one person who could sound that annoyed at Stiles for even just breathing.

“Fancy meeting you here, Derek. Why are we cuddling?”

He was immediately shoved for that comment, falling over sideways but he managed to throw his hands out and catch himself on the floor before his head collided with it. Rude. He was injured, and unlike Derek, he didn’t have night vision.

“Where are we?” he asked again, sitting up and feeling Derek’s body pressed against his side. He’d obviously sat down beside him and had kept him close in the darkness while he’d been unconscious to ensure he was okay.

“Hunter’s place, I think.” A pause, then, very grudgingly, “Are you okay?”

Stiles reached up to rub at his forehead, wincing once and then giving himself a brief mental inventory. His eyes stung, and his face hurt, but considering he’d been hit with some kind of flash bomb right in the face before he’d passed out, that was to be expected.

“Still have all my limbs.”

“And your face? I can’t see it well enough in the dark. You went down pretty hard when you got hit.”

“I think it’s okay.” He shrugged. “How long have we been here?”

“About an hour. Scott’s coming.”

“Of course he is, Scott’s always willing to play the hero,” Stiles said with a grin.

“No, I mean, Scott’s literally coming. I can hear him upstairs.”

“Oh.” Stiles shifted against Derek, reaching back to use the wall to help him stand. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, they’re just fighting.” He could hear the stress in Derek’s voice, but that was probably just his worry about his pack fighting for him. Well, and Stiles. Stiles was pack, too.

They were silent while the fight went on, Stiles straining to hear. He could make out some scuffling, but wherever they were, it had to be soundproof. Only Scott’s roar of anger could be made out through the room. Derek responded in kind, making Stiles’ ears ache.

“Yeah, thanks for that. Gonna go deaf, now.” Stiles pressed one hand to his pulsing head and winced, hearing shuffling beside him, like Derek was getting to his feet.

A loud bang sounded and he was sure that meant a door had just been thrown open and a buzzing sound.

“Thank God,” Kira’s voice said from close by. “Come on, let’s go. We won’t be able to hold them off much longer.”

Derek gave Stiles a shove and he turned to glare at him. Or, where he assumed he was, considering it was still pitch black.

“Yeah, I get the whole seeing in the dark thing for you Supernatural types, but I’m a mere mortal and I don’t have the ability to see in the dark.” He motioned his eyes. “These are normal human eyes. Can we maybe turn on the lights before asking me to run off into the night.”

Despite the fighting upstairs, the room went incredibly still. Kira sounded like she wasn’t breathing and the hand Derek had placed on his back to get him to move forward instantly curled into his shirt.

“What?” Derek asked in a quiet voice.

“What?” Stiles repeated. “Turn on the lights and then we can go when I’m not tripping over myself.”

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice was soft, hand tightening in the back of his shirt. “Stiles, are you saying you can’t see anything right now?”

“Again. Not able to see in the dark. Mere human.”

He heard Derek’s breathing hitch behind him and frowned.

“What?” he asked again.

“Stiles. The lights are on.”

Wait.

What?

**END.**


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